


Reflection of the Moon

by salakavala



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Intercrural Sex, Loki and Thor Are Not Related, M/M, Rimming, Road Trips, There's one scene with vague references to past child abuse and past suicidal intentions, mood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-25 19:24:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17127293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/salakavala/pseuds/salakavala
Summary: When Thor hits the road, he means to leave it all behind. The boy he picks up at the roadside changes everything.





	Reflection of the Moon

**Author's Note:**

> Originally, I had another title for this story. I had spent a lot of time on it, too. But then, at the same time as I was making the last overlook before clicking "post", I happened to hear a very beautiful piece of music called Reflection of the Moon by Kitaro, and, well, the title I had originally come up with suddenly felt entirely wrong. This one, I think, is right.

 

* * *

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

In the end, it's the boy that stops him.

The road stretches far ahead towards the horizon. Hot rocks tower in the distance, red under the burning sun. It’s been a while since the last gas stop, and longer yet till the next one, but the tank in Thor’s old car is nearly full. He took to this road fully prepared.

The boy is sleeping on the passenger’s side, his head nestled in a black mess of curls and the crook of his elbow against the window. His face seems oddly pale despite the heat, untouched by the sun; he’d had a light grey scarf wrapped around it when Thor found him lying on the roadside.

He’s young, the boy. Just a kid, really, can’t be older than seventeen. A runaway, probably. What else drives them into deserts?

Thor turns his eyes back to the road. He has no idea where he’s going, now.

 

 

 

The boy stirs awake an hour later. He blinks blearily, then shoots a quick glance at Thor. He doesn’t say anything, only accepts the bottle of warm water that Thor hands to him without taking his eyes off the road. A trickle of sweat runs down his long throat as he drinks, the trail quickly dried by warm breeze. Thor has rolled down the windows; his AC doesn’t do shit.

The road no longer looks like a runway to the sky. It follows the edge of a canyon now, zigzagging lazily between a deathly drop and colossal red rocks. The sun is still high. Plenty of daylight yet ahead of them.

Thor keeps his eyes on the road, hands on the wheel. Wouldn’t want to crash with a kid in his car. He keeps driving forward, because forward is the only way there is, and swiping droplets of sweat with the back of his palm before they get into his eyes. He doesn’t say anything, either. He’s got nothing to say.

 

 

 

They stop at a roadside motel after midnight. The sky is deep black, the stars bright and numerous this far in the middle of nowhere. The boy cranes his neck to gaze at them when he steps out of the car. His hair reaches his shoulder blades when he tilts his head like that, splayed over his scarf and a worn too-large leather jacket that he's pulling tighter around himself. He looks at the stars like a lost child would look at the sea of strangers, searching for the familiar face of his mother.

Thor looks up too. He doesn't know what he sees there. Doesn't know what he could be looking for.

The night is quiet around them. The chill is settling in.

“There are so many.”

Thor looks back down at the boy. His face is still tilted up, even paler in cold starlight. He curls his fingers in the large sleeves of his jacket.

Thor turns to lock the car's doors. “Let's go.”

The lobby of the motel is empty. A drowsy attendant pushes one key at them as Thor pays for their room. She barely looks at their faces.

“Second floor,” she tells them and turns back to the tiny TV screen she has on a stool behind the counter.

They climb the narrow, stale-smelling, slightly creaky stairs up to find their room. It's not a big motel; there are only six doors in the corridor.

“I wonder what she's doing here,” the boy says as they check the room numbers for their own. “I mean, this place is nowhere.”

Thor doesn't reply; he doesn't wonder. It's none of his business, whatever she's doing there or anywhere at all. He finds the right door and sticks the key in.

“I'm Loki,” the boy says behind him.

Thor opens the door and turns to look at him. He’s met with a pair of pale green eyes regarding him steadily.

“I just thought you should know,” the boy adds, shrugging. “Since we're sharing and all.”

They've been travelling together for almost twelve hours practically in silence. Frankly, at this point Thor didn't think that the boy would share his name at all, considering that Thor never asked for it, nor told his own. It hardly seemed to matter, then.

But it’s beginning to look like they will be stuck together for a while, so might as well. “I'm Thor,” he says, even cracks a small smile. He's got some manners left in him, at least.

The room is small. There are two narrow beds side by side, a simple, flimsy-looking desk, and a chair. Behind a door in the cramped foyer they find a tiny bathroom. Perfectly enough, for one night.

They take turns in the shower – they even find a small bar of soap there – and without further ado settle for sleep. Thor, last to use the bathroom, switches off the lights and lets darkness envelop him into its quiet embrace.

The bed is, naturally, a far cry from the one he used to have. Here the mattress smells a little stuffy and the pillow is lumpy, but strangely, Thor is grateful for it. These little discomforts ground him, make him feel that he's truly there. Like he has a grip on something concrete, for tonight.

It's quiet; there are no passing cars, no loud neighbours, no distant sirens somewhere in the city. There is only deep silence, he, and his thoughts. And Loki.

He hears him tossing and turning restlessly in the next bed, shuffling for a while, until all quiets down. He must have fallen asleep. Thor should, too.

He's just made himself close his eyes when Loki's quiet voice breaks the silence.

“Aren't you going to ask?”

Thor opens his eyes, stares at the ceiling through the darkness. “No.”

“Most people would ask. No one picks up a straggler and then asks no questions.”

Thor probably should. In the past, he certainly would have. But he’s put that life behind him. “You want to tell me?”

The boy quiets. Shifts a little. Thor breathes deep and closes his eyes again. Reopens them soon after. He can sense Loki’s restlessness, and despite the draining day, he isn’t particularly sleepy, either. Weary, yes, and tired, but not sleepy.

“I've got my own questions to figure out,” he speaks into darkness.

He's not sure, why. The words just came to him, and he didn't stop them.

There is silence for a brief moment, and then Loki says, “You want to tell me?” and Thor, surprised, huffs a laugh.

“Don't get smart on me, kid.”

“Why, you gonna beat it out of me?”

Air freezes in Thor's throat, thickens into a cold lump. He forces it out, slowly, and turns to look where he knows Loki's bed is. He only distinguishes its outline in the dark.

“Did someone beat you?”

He can see the shape of Loki's shoulder. It seems to shrug; he gets no other answer.

“Is that why you ran?” Thor asks.

“So you're asking now, after all?”

Thor shuts his mouth.

They don't speak after that. Eventually, Thor falls asleep.

 

 

 

Breakfast at the motel is cheap, and tastes like it, too: toast with a vague taste of paper, sticky apple jam, and instant coffee. Thor, though, likes it well enough. It reflects his mood, more or less. Beside him Loki wolfs bread down without a word of complaint. It's been a whole day at least since he's last eaten. Belatedly Thor realises he should have asked the attendant for a little snack for Loki on the night before, and feels a jab of guilt for not thinking of it then.

The same woman who received them tells Thor that there's a gas stop in a couple of hours of driving on, where they can buy any essentials they need. Thor thanks her, and he and Loki head out.

It's going to be a sweltering day. Thor tosses his denim jacket on the back seat, leaving only his loose, sleeveless top on. He catches Loki's eyes lingering on his arms – nothing uncommon there, he's used to that – and, in a bit, Loki follows his example and strips of his own jacket and the scarf; they join Thor's at the back of the car. He climbs into his own seat in his green T-shirt and faded black jeans.

He doesn't ask where Thor is going, or if he can join him. He didn't on the day before, either, when Thor stopped by his curled body on the roadside and told him to jump in. He has not asked to be dropped anywhere, either. Maybe he, too, lacks a destination.

They left the rocks behind on the day before, and so now what lies before and around them are flat, rust-coloured plains. An odd speck of yellowish green disrupts the otherwise even sea of sand; the road doesn't seem to end at all.

They don't speak much that day, either. Loki lets his arm hang from the handle above his door, resting his chin on his own shoulder, watching something and nothing in the distance. He's rolled his window down, and now the wind is tearing mercilessly at his black mess of hair. He'll get a sunburn on his right arm, if he doesn't cover it soon; the sun is steadily circling on their right.

Thor keeps his eyes mostly to the road and sometimes to Loki. He doesn't ask, but now he wonders, a little.

 

 

 

Darkness falls before they reach another motel, so Thor drives off the road and parks the car right there for the night. They'll sleep under the stars tonight.

“Get on the back seat,” he tells Loki, when the boy's done brushing his teeth a little further away.

Loki glances between the confined space and Thor. “And you?”

“Right here.” Thor pats lightly the backrest of the driver's seat and ducks in to push it back as much as he can. It won't be a comfortable night, but it'll do. He's had worse. “Hold on.”

He goes to open the trunk of the car and tugs out an old blanket he's had there forever. It's dusty, but not much worse than the blankets they had at the motel. Should be fine. He hands it to Loki. “Here. It's going to get cold.”

It already is cold. Night claims its due, in the desert.

“What about you?” Loki asks and points at Thor's denim jacket. Still, he accepts the blanket.

Thor shrugs. “I don't get cold easily.”

 

 

 

The stars are as many as they were the night before. Thor gazes at them as he listens to Loki's fidgeting on the back seat. The moon is up, too, or what's left of it. Thor watches it, tries to imagine the vast empty seas on its surface, imagines driving through them until the unyielding darkness of the waning moon swallows him along with the rest of the light.

Maybe he's on that road already. Maybe he's been on it for a long time now. But if so, when will the darkness finally reach him? Or has it already?

 _You want to tell me?_ Loki asked him on the night before.

Thor lets his eyes move to the bottomless black void behind the tiny specks of light. _How about_ you _tell me?_ he says – to whom, he doesn't know. The silent words burn bitter on his tongue. _How about you tell me, because I'm done looking for answers._

Nothing on the sky tells him anything. The stars only blink at him, far above. And why would they answer? To them people must seem the same faceless clutter as the stars are to people. One less or more, it would hardly make a difference. Nothing from that hight would even notice.

Thor hides his hands in his armpits, chases any warmth he can get. It's all right. One night in the desert won't kill him. He closes his eyes.

On the back seat Loki's shuffling increases, and then the back door opens and closes.

Thor has barely enough time to crack his eyes open before his door opens, and Loki packs in, hooking his leg over Thor's thighs to straddle him and buries himself into Thor. He’s got the blanket around him, and he tucks its corners between Thor's bulk and the backrest.

“I'm cold,” he mumbles against Thor's neck. His breath leaves a damp spot where it meets Thor's skin.

“Loki,” Thor starts, meaning to protest, but his palms instinctively slide down to rest on Loki's slim waist.

Loki winds his arms around Thor. His hands are curled into fists inside his too-long sleeves. “I can't sleep when I'm cold.”

Thor releases a short breath. “Listen, kid...”

“Please.”

Thor quiets.

Loki's arms tighten around him, and almost reflexively Thor mirrors the gesture. The boy feels small in his hold. An extra meal or two wouldn't hurt him.

“Thank you,” Loki whispers. His hair is a soft contrast against Thor's bearded cheek.

“Yeah,” Thor murmurs in response. He's not sure if Loki is thanking him for the warmth, or for taking him along to begin with, but it hardly matters.

Something small and dormant stirs between Thor's lungs. He closes his eyes and lets his head rest against Loki's, absently drawing his hand up and down on the back of Loki's jacket. Then, without thinking, he slips it under, counting the bumps of Loki's spine through his T-shirt alone. He feels Loki shivering a little before fully relaxing against Thor's chest, like butter on a warm pan.

“Yeah,” he repeats, mostly to himself; Loki's breathing has evened. “I've got you.”

 

 

 

“No one beat me,” Loki says, out of the blue.

They've been driving for four days now, since Thor picked Loki up. They passed one truck on the day before, stopped at a few gas stops. No more sleeping in the car, either – they drive until they reach a roadside motel. Thor's decision. It's not many nights, anyway. One more, and they'll put the desert behind them, find civilisation again. Still, it’s too early to think about that yet, so Thor doesn’t.

He and Loki have been talking a bit more. Of nothing important: what to get at the next gas stop, whether or not it's possible to repair Thor's car radio. Little things, divided by long, comfortable silences.

Nothing like this.

“What?”

“No one beat me,” Loki repeats, and Thor remembers their first conversation that first night. He glances at Loki; Loki's eyes are on the distant line of mountains in the horizon, an uneven scar where earth and sky collide. “They only said they would.”

“Who?”

Loki shrugs. Thor grips the steering wheel a little tighter.

“Is that why you ran?” he asks again.

The road cuts through the plains in a straight line; Thor looks at Loki. They don't bother with the windows any more, and the wind is constantly grabbing and tugging at Loki's hair to throw black locks in every direction. Thor hates it when his own hair does that, so he has it tied at his neck when he drives, but the wild dance around Loki's head suits him, somehow. It goes with the faded jeans and the top, torn where the sleeves used to be. Loki cut them off at a motel on the night before. _I hate T-shirt tan lines,_ was his explanation when Thor emerged from the bathroom and found him sitting on a bed cross-legged, tiny travel scissors in one hand and the green T-shirt in the other.

It's a little late for the tan lines, because Loki's right arm has faced the afternoon sun for three days before he cut the sleeves. Thor can't see an exact line, but the rest of the arm is visibly pink while the now bare shoulder remains paler than Loki's inner forearm.

Loki is quiet. Thor turns back to the road.

“I didn't run.”

“No?”

Loki looks at Thor, and Thor glances at him, meets his steady pale green gaze. Remembers, abruptly, the shape of him against his own chest, his palms. Looks back to the road.

“I left.”

Thor can sense the difference, but he doesn't grasp what Loki means, exactly. Still doesn't know if Loki wants to be asked about it or not.

He does ask, something that he probably should have before he told the boy to jump in to begin with. “Is anyone going to be looking for you?” _Family, police?_ The last thing Thor needs is to be charged with abduction of a minor. Or assisting a young criminal in the making.

“No.”

That's enough for Thor. They don't speak any more until the sun goes down.

 

 

 

Their nights have turned into a routine by now: stop at a motel, get a room for two. Loki showers, then Thor. Loki is in bed by the time Thor comes out, and Thor slips into his, and switches off the light. They sleep, or toss and turn (mostly Loki), or stare quietly into the night (mostly Thor).

Tonight, Loki breaks the routine.

Thor turns off the light and gets into his bed, tries to get comfortable. The mattress is thin, a little lumpy as they usually are in these places. It's not that bad, but Thor's shoulders are stiff from all the driving. That's what happens when you leave your roaring twenties behind.

The waning moon paints a narrow stripe of pallid light on the floor and across the foot of Loki's bed. Thor lies on his side, staring out through the gap between the curtains. The moon unnerves him, a little. Its light is too cold, unfriendly, and it cuts the dark like a sharp knife.

Loki shifts again on his bed; his shuffling draws Thor's eyes away. He has his back to Thor, a mound under covers. He's restless, too. Maybe he watches the moon as well.

Then Loki's covers move, and a pale ankle slides through the strip of light on Loki's bed. Half a breath later, Thor's mattress dips.

“Loki,” he says quietly, when Loki slips under his covers, shuffling close, closer, until he's chest to chest with Thor. Thor's hands twitch – by instinct alone he almost lays them on Loki. Almost; he refrains.

“Let me,” Loki whispers softly. His breath catches in Thor's beard, and Thor is again reminded of the night in his car.

“Are you cold?” he asks, subtly shifting away from Loki; he can't help the way his body stirs to Loki's proximity. But Loki doesn't let him – he throws his knee over Thor's thighs, tries to inch even closer, flush against the length of Thor's body.

“Loki,” Thor repeats, a hint of warning in his voice – and still he doesn't pull away, doesn't resist when Loki coaxes his thigh between his knees.

Loki's fingers press lightly against Thor's lips. His other hand creeps to rest against Thor's sternum, his gaze dark and unwavering in the darkness. When he speaks, his voice is quiet. “Do you want me, Thor?”

Does Thor want him? Thor wants him so much he aches. But Loki is young, too young for someone nearing his mid-thirties. Fuck, Thor should have asked his age when he first picked him up. He shouldn't have let Loki go this far.

“Do you, Thor?” Loki asks. His fingertips tremble a little against Thor’s lips.

Thor releases a long breath against them. He's not that strong.

“Yeah,” he breathes. “Yeah, baby, I do.”

“Then don't push me away,” Loki pleads, and then destroys the last trace of resistance Thor might have had: “Please.”

Fuck. Thor's cock is already hardening, and his hand lands on Loki's side, traces lower on the fabric of his sleeping shirt to rest on his hip, just above the line of his boxers. “Loki, do you know what you are asking for?”

Loki tilts his face upward, bringing his lips to Thor's so that they are only separated by his own fingers. “Yes. And I want it with you, Thor.”

“Fuck, Loki...” Almost involuntarily Thor's palm on Loki's hip slips lower to settle around his buttocks. Loki makes a needy little sound in his throat, and Thor cannot help himself – he grabs Loki's ass and pulls him abruptly against his hard-on. His breath stutters, but he forces himself to focus. “Are you sure? You've got to tell me now if you aren't, or I might not be able to stop.”

“I don't want you to stop,” Loki pants against his mouth and shudders when Thor kisses the pads of his fingers. “I want you to have me.”

There is nothing more Thor can say to that. He pulls Loki's hand from his mouth by the wrist and takes those thin lips in a hungry kiss. Loki whines into his mouth and tries to rub his erection against Thor, and Thor pushes his thigh between Loki's to offer him some friction. He slips his hand underneath Loki's boxers and grabs his ass again, kneads the soft mound almost roughly. Groans, imagining what he'll find between those globes.

Unable to restrain himself, he dips one finger in the crease between Loki's cheeks, looking for the little pucker there. Loki's entire body jerks when he finds it, and he whimpers softly, wantonly. Thor swallows the needy sound in another kiss and pushes his finger inside. Loki's walls instantly clamp around it, and Thor can't withhold a groan.

“Fuck, baby, you'll be so tight for me.”

He rolls Loki easily on his back and follows to settle above him, between his spread legs. He plants his elbows on either side of Loki's head and kisses him again.

Loki's hands climb up and down Thor's arms, his back, tracing his muscles. He kisses wetly, inexpertly, but what he lacks in experience he makes up with his eagerness to open himself for Thor. It makes something hot spill inside of Thor's stomach, spread up to his heart and lungs, and crawl down towards the pit of his stomach, where arousal is tangling into a tight coil. Thor grinds his hips down, moans when Loki tries to push against him. He's painfully hard now, and all he wants is to burrow himself in Loki's tight heat. He ruts his cock through their underwear against that tempting hole.

“You ever had anyone in there before?”

Loki shakes his head vehemently, stares at Thor with dilated pupils. “No, no, never.”

Thor groans again, drops his forehead against Loki's. “Fuck, baby. Fuck, I want to eat you up.”

Loki turns his head and latches his mouth to Thor's forearm that's resting just beside him. That presents Thor with an unprotected column of neck, ending just below an ear. He licks along it all the way up, then sucks the tip of Loki’s earlobe into his mouth. Loki jerks reflexively and then releases a startled giggle.

“Tickles...”

Thor hums and returns to his neck, proceeds lower, to Loki's chest. He hasn't really seen him unclothed before. Hasn't really looked. But now he gets to appreciate this lithe body all he wants.

Loki shifts underneath him. “Wait.”

Thor looks up at him. Loki meets his eyes for a brief second before his gaze flits to the side, to Thor's arm. “I just. I've been wanting to. To.”

“Tell me,” Thor says, pulse quickening a little. Loki has been wanting to. Loki has been wanting, too.

Loki doesn't elaborate. Instead he shuffles underneath Thor towards the foot of the bed, lower, so that he ends up entirely bracketed by Thor's bulk, face on his chest level. Thor tries to give his some space, but before he can move, Loki sneaks a hand around his back to keep him close, supporting himself on one elbow. Only a moment later Thor feels a wet kiss on his pecs, first on the left side, then the right.

He releases a shuddering breath. “Loki.”

“I've wanted to,” he hears Loki mumble, and immediately a lick to his nipple follows. “Stay like this, Thor, please stay like this.”

Thor stays, though he rises off his elbows to lean on his hands, to give Loki more space. Loki follows him like a hungry kitten, licking and kissing over his chest and neck, nipping at a nipple and then suckling at it.

“You're so big,” Loki whines between his licks. “Wanted to touch you.” He nuzzles Thor's chest, his face almost slipping in his armpit. “Taste you. Wanted to -”

Thor kisses him. Fuck, but Loki will be the end of him. His cock aches at the thought of letting Loki taste more of him, but even more than that, he aches for a taste himself. He wants to make it good for Loki. If this is Loki's first time…

Thor puts a hand on Loki's chest and pushes him back down on the bed. Loki goes, his wide eyes constantly on Thor, chest heaving with uneven breaths. Thor slides his hands under his hips and lifts them off the bed with ease. Loki squeaks as Thor guides his legs over his shoulders and pulls almost Loki's entire body off the bed, leaving only the shoulders to support him.

“Tho-- _Thor-!_ ” Loki starts, and nearly bites off his tongue when Thor buries his face between Loki's thighs.

“I hear you, baby,” Thor mumbles and mouths at the hard cock through the underwear. There is a wet spot on them where Loki is leaking pre-come, and Thor sucks at it, takes the tip into his mouth, makes it wetter. Loki moans, hands desperately fumbling for support on the bed before settling for clutching the sheets in tight fists. Loki's eyes are almost wild as he stares at Thor, his lips parted. Little breathy whines keep pouring from his throat, intensifying as Thor noses his way to his balls to bite them gently. The cotton feels a little rough on his tongue, but Thor doesn't mind; he’ll taste the softness underneath soon enough.

He doesn't linger there for too long. His goal is lower yet.

Loki makes a strangled little gasp when Thor spreads his cheeks and mouths at his hole. “W-wait, what are you doing?”

Thor sends him a grin so full of intent that Loki can have no doubts concerning his plans. “Help me get these off,” he only says and rolls the boxers towards Loki's knees, guiding first one leg and then the other through to rid them of the restraining fabric. “That's better.”

He buries his face between Loki's cheeks again, this time with no barriers between his tongue and Loki's bare skin. Loki squirms in his grip, face tellingly red. If he never had anyone's cock in his pretty little hole, there's no chance he's had anyone's tongue there either. Thor pauses to send him a hungry grin. “Told you, baby: I want to eat you up.”

Loki's thighs quiver on each side of his head as Thor tastes him deep. His beard will likely leave the smooth skin red and irritated, by the time he's done, like those little carvings in the bottoms of the beds in camping centres where he spent summers as a kid: _I was here_. Only now, he is the first to carve his mark on Loki. Whether there'll be others after him, he chooses to not think about.

Loki whimpers sweetly, and it increases Thor's hunger, urges him deeper, harder. He puts a hand on Loki's lower belly, feels the strained trembling under his skin. Loki won't last long.

He wraps his hand around Loki's weeping cock and starts working it, easing the slide with the leaking pre-come. Loki throws his forearms over his face, unable to bite his moans back. “Ah, ah, ah, Thh _nnngh, Thor!_ ”

It must be overwhelming, to have a grown man on him like that, particularly for his first time. Thor works his hand on Loki's cock faster, harder, nearing a point of desperation himself; it speaks to something primal deep within him that it is he to whom Loki gave himself over for the first time. Fuck, how he wants to come in this sweet ass, to be the first and the best this body will ever have, to own it, if only for tonight.

Loki comes with a startled cry, painting his belly and chest with white stripes, staining his rucked-up sleep shirt with some of it. A droplet lands on his face, but he doesn't seem to notice.

Thor strokes him through it, moving to mouth at his balls until he's milked Loki dry. When Loki's whines turn from pleasured to slightly pained, he eases Loki back down onto the bed, massages his thighs lightly while Loki comes to. Wonders. Rimming is not an act he has often performed with his previous partners, not because he disliked it, but because it is an area of intimacy that, maybe more than many others, demands particular trust between partners – particular openness, a vulnerability. What drove him to want to do it to Loki, he can't say.

“Oh,” Loki mumbles, his breathing returning to normal. Thor leans down to give him a small kiss.

“Turn on your side, baby,” he says, helping Loki even before he’s finished speaking, lying down behind him.

“Thor?” Loki asks a little drowsily. Thor kisses the nape of his neck.

“I'm here.”

He reaches around Loki to collect any come he can on his fingers, then snakes his hand between Loki's thighs, spreads it there. Loki's skin is damp with sweat, helping slicking him.

“What are you doing?”

Thor spits on his hand to add to the mess between Loki's thighs. “You're going to make me feel good, baby.”

Loki tenses a little. Thor strokes his bare flank to calm him. He's burning to bury himself inside Loki's body, but they have no lube, no condoms. He's large, and Loki's never had anyone in his hole. Spit won't be enough to make it good for both of them, and Thor will not hurt Loki. He lifts Loki's knee enough to slip his cock between his thighs. “Keep them tight and nice for me.”

Loki does as he's told and Thor rolls his hips experimentally. “Oh, yes, baby. You're going to make me feel so good.”

“Like this?” Loki's voice sounds unsure.

Thor kisses his neck again, thrusting into the tight gap of his thighs. “Like this, baby.”

He feels Loki pressing his thighs even closer together and groans. It won't take him long; he's been close to the edge for far too long to have it last. Loki is making it good for him, catching on so quickly: he reaches down to wrap his fingers around Thor's length every time Thor pushes forward. It's a hesitant touch at first, but grows bolder with every huff and groan Thor releases. “Yeah, yeah baby, that's it...”

“I want this in me,” Loki breathes, fingers playing with the crown of Thor's cock. “I want you inside me, Thor.”

Hearing that is more arousing than it should be, as is having those inexperienced but clever fingers on him, curious and eager. When Loki takes his own fingers into his mouth before wrapping them around Thor once more, Thor can't help but imagine having Loki's pretty mouth instead, thin lips stretched around him, eyes wet and glossy with the effort of taking in a little more. The sounds he'd make, the way he'd look up at Thor--

Thor comes hard and heavy, coating Loki's hand with his load, making a mess between this thighs. Loki keeps stroking him, panting as he does, until Thor grips his wrist and pulls his hand away.

Loki wiggles against him, and it takes Thor a moment to realise that he has gathered more of Thor's come on his fingers and is reaching behind himself to smear it over his hole. A weak jolt of fresh want goes through Thor, and he quickly joins Loki in his efforts, their fingers tangling between Loki's thighs. “Oh, baby.”

He should be above this, but marking Loki _there_ feels deeply satisfying in a way Thor hasn’t experienced in a long while.

“Next time, I want you to come inside me,” Loki murmurs.

Thor wants that too, but he only hums and pulls Loki against him. Loki turns around in his arms so that they lie face to face and leans in for a kiss. Thor gives it to him eagerly, but keeps it short and sweet.

He rolls onto his back with a deep, satisfied sigh, cuddling Loki close and letting him rest his head on his shoulder.

It's good, to be so close to another person. To have someone in your embrace, beside your heartbeat.

What's left of the moon regards them through the gap between the curtains, the army of stars ready at its call. Thor watches them as he runs his hand in slow circles along Loki's side, sneaking it underneath Loki's sleep shirt, counting the bumps of his spine. Up, up, up, one little knoll after the other. He watches the moon and thinks of nothing.

His hand reaches Loki's shoulder blades, hesitates, then halts there. Loki, evidently not dozing as Thor thought, tenses. Thor frowns. He runs his fingers from one shoulder blade to another, does it again, slower, and finally stills his palm in the middle. He has to force himself to draw a deep breath, but it's as though his lungs have turned into ice; instinctively, he tightens his hold on Loki.

He looks out at the stars, the moon. Thinks again of following endless moon-rivers, but this time, Loki is there with him.

“They didn't hit me,” Loki whispers into the void that the pleasant silence left behind. His breath is hot on Thor's bare skin. “They only cut me.”

Thor doesn't say anything, doesn't ask. But his arms, they close around Loki tighter, tighter. He soothes long caresses over his back, over the clutter of scars beneath each shoulder blade. A mutilated angel. His angel.

“I never intended on coming this far,” he admits quietly into the air. The moon turns to him, observant, knowing. Thor keeps his eyes on it, stroking slowly Loki's back. “That canyon, the day I picked you up. I wasn't supposed to get any further. It was supposed to end there.”

He feels Loki hold his breath, then release it slowly, and with the long exhale his body relaxes against Thor's. He lays his palm on Thor's chest, over his heart. It's warm. Grounding. Thor covers it with his own.

“I couldn't, of course. Not with a kid in my car. Couldn't just drive off the ledge and drop you off in the middle of the desert either, not after I had already picked you up.” He thinks of the moon-rivers and the desert road. Adds, slowly, thoughtfully, “The last plan I had, and you interfered.”

Loki lies still. Something warm and wet drips down onto Thor's bare chest.

Then, “You could have just left me. Driven past, like everyone else. I didn't ask you to stop.”

“No.” Thor turns his face away from the night sky, into Loki's hair. “I couldn't have.”

It occurs to him then that maybe he has been given an answer, after all. Not to everything, but to his very last question, the one he left to the wind before he set off on this path. Maybe he is at a start. At an end, too, albeit not what he first envisioned.

He looks back out of the window – but the moon, satisfied, has already moved on. It has only left the rivers, carving their wet paths towards Thor’s heart.

“Shh,” he hushes softly, pets the soft baby hairs at the nape of Loki's neck.

Loki turns his face into him further, shakes with suppressed tears. His fingers dig into Thor's chest.

“Are you angry?”

It's almost a whisper, a fearful, lonely little sound. Thor knows it well. Loki shouldn't. It breaks something in Thor's chest, something that has been numb and unfeeling for a long time.

He rolls them over, envelops Loki underneath his bulk, kisses the wet skin beneath his eyes. “No, baby. No.” He kisses Loki's lips, tastes the salt on them. _No. You saved me._

He kisses Loki again with that thought, and again. Doesn’t stop until it has seeped from his lips to Loki’s, until Loki has absorbed and understood it in the very marrow of his bones: _you saved me._

They cling to each other throughout the entire night, holding, melting together in salty, wet kisses until sleep claims them. When they wake, it’s to a quietness Thor hasn't heard in years.

 

 

 

All roads come to and end, eventually; they catch sight of the first big town after the desert in the afternoon, and Thor knows he can't postpone the question any longer. Without quite meaning to, he eases some weight off the gas pedal.

Loki is looking outside, dangling his arm out of the window with splayed fingers, playing catch with the wind. He notices the slowing speed, frowns. “Thor, what's this?”

“You never said where you want me to drop you.”

“Drop me?” Loki repeats. Thor sees the moment when comprehension dawns on him; his eyes widen, and he pulls his hands into his lap, curls them into a nervous ball. “Thor, what do you mean, drop me?”

“Surely you had something in mind when you left. A relative, friends, someone to stay with?”

Loki stares at him with parted lips. That's probably a no, then. Thor suspected as much. He feels a twinge of guilt, seeing Loki's almost frightfully open hurt, of course he does. But there's no going back to his own life. He has no plan, no direction. He has nothing to offer to Loki, should the boy want to stay with him. He opens his mouth to explain that, but Loki beats him to it.

“Are you leaving me?”

His voice breaks at the end. Thor aches to reach out, to wipe out the tears that have sprung to Loki's eyes. Instead, he keeps his eyes on the road. “It's better for you this way, baby,” he says softly, and doesn't lie. Loki is young. He's got his life ahead. Thor would just take it from him. Loki deserves a chance to find his place, not follow Thor into nothing.

“Better?” Loki spits, anger taking over his hurt. “If you want to be rid of me, just say so!”

“I don't,” Thor says, and again, does not lie.

“Then _why_?”

Thor can't help it. He drives off the road, parks the car at the side, reaches out. Tucks a few black strands behind Loki's ear, wipes a stray tear with his thumb. Faces Loki's gaze, helpless. “Loki. I've got no idea where I'm going.”

“Neither have I,” Loki says, green eyes determined and desperate at the same time.

“You have a chance to find out. Go to school somewhere. I've got money; I can help you with all of that.”

Loki shakes his head vehemently. “No. I want to go with you. I don't care if I don't know where, if it's with you.”

“Oh, Loki...”

“If we go together, at least we won't be alone,” Loki insists. His gaze is imploring and a little wet. He drops it to his lap. “Unless you don't want to.”

Thor looks at him wringing his fingers, swallows. Knows he should fight it.

He's not that strong.

“You'd come with me, baby? Even if we'll just end up driving endlessly without ever finding a destination?”

Loki nods.

Thor shouldn't, he understands that. It wouldn't be wise. Who knows where they'll end up, what kind of life they'll end up leading? Thor doesn't.

But he doesn't really care, either. Not truly, not like he used to in the life he left behind. Since the moment he saw Loki lying on the roadside he's known that he won't be able to drive past him. Couldn't do it then, in the desert, and won't be able to do it now.

“Okay.”

Loki's gaze snaps back to him. Thor leans over and kisses the corner of his eye, lingers there; Loki's breath is hot on his neck, and his skin tastes of salt and sand and sunlight.

They should make a list of the necessities to buy at the next place they stop. See if they can make the blasted AC work again, maybe even repair the radio. Get the car comfortable, since they'll be spending a lot of time in there.

 

 

They drive on.

 

 

*

**Author's Note:**

> The incredibly skilful Golikethat has created an absolutely lovely painting inspired by this fic, please go and give them all the love you have! You can find the painting here on [Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/p/Br89AyohWCR/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1u7yz3134kp4l) or [tumbrl](https://golikethatcat.tumblr.com/post/181503790064/reflection-of-the-moon-beautiful-thorki-au-about). Also, the photoset in the beginning of the fic is by the wonderful [Summertudinal](https://summertudinal.tumblr.com/post/185148127941/reflection-of-the-moon-salakavala-thor). <3


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